


The Eyes of a Snake

by Magical_Persona



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 17:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19706062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Persona/pseuds/Magical_Persona
Summary: Crowley doesn't take his glasses off much and Aziraphale can't for the life of him figure out why. The demon doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so it's up to an angel to wait for the proper time to ask.





	The Eyes of a Snake

Crowley was sprawled across a chair between some bookshelves, sunglasses threatening to fall as he slept. The late afternoon sun was falling on the demon, basking him a dim pink-orange hue. If an onlooker cared to study the sleeping man for more than a split second they might also see what looked like flashes of wings. Or perhaps it was simply the lengthening shadows playing tricks on the eyes.

Aziraphale had moved from his perch behind a desk to flip the bookstore sign to closed and lock the door. He frowned slightly. He knew Crowley was prone to sleep where he liked, but sleeping with glasses couldn’t be comfortable. Still, as comfortable as they were with each other after roughly six thousand years and the apocalypse mess Crowley wouldn’t take his glasses off for more than a moment.

The angel couldn’t have explained why it bothered him so much. The sunglasses were as much a part of Crowley as the slight hiss to his words when he got excited. Still, so were those beautiful amber eyes. If he was being honest Aziraphale missed those eyes. He’d only seen them a few times, which was probably a good thing. He was certain he wouldn’t have been able to resist kissing Crowley for as long as he had with those eyes boring into him.

Aziraphale reached down to remove Crowley’s glasses and set them aside. There was no sense in them falling and possibly breaking. His fingertips had just barely rushed the edges of the frame when a slim hand latched tightly to his wrist.

“Don’t,” the words came out in a hiss. Like a snake who had just been woken from a nap.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable without them,” Aziraphale responded. He was startled by the sudden movement, but not deterred. Crowley wouldn’t hurt him. They had been friends for much too long for Aziraphale to worry about that.

“You were wrong,” Crowley replied, hand sliding away from Aziraphale but hovering should the angel get any bright ideas.

Aziraphale let his hands fall to his sides. “Alright then. Since you’re awake, I’m famished, would you like to get something to eat?”

Aziraphale thought that would be the end of it. For a few weeks it was. Crowley wore his glasses more or less 24/7 and Azirapahle never tried to take them off again. When the topic returned to the forefront of their minds it was because something crashed in the kitchen. It was an awful sound that roused Aziraphale from one his rare naps. The angel bolted into the kitchen to find Crowley muttering to himself attempting to cook.

Aziraphale said nothing, only stood in the doorway and watched. Crowley was muttering to himself and flashes of yellow eyes could be seen between flattened locks of red hair. The demon’s sunglasses were set to the side, out of the way of flour that covered the counter.

The angel wasn’t sure how long it took for Crowley to notice him. Normally, the demon was better at that. Always expecting to be attacked or snuck up on. Of course, he felt safe here. There was no need to be constantly observant. It was nice to see this side of Crowley. Where he stood in the middle of the kitchen, unguarded. Eventually, the demon turned around to grab something only to see the angel out of the corner of his eye.

Crowley reached for his glasses, putting them on his face as quickly and calmly as he could manage.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me, Angel!” Crowley hissed.

“What are you making?” Azirapahale asked, stepping up to Crowley’s workspace. The place was a mess, covered in flour and who knew what else.

“If you must know, I was trying to make crepes,” Crowley replied, prickling at the question.

Aziraphale peeked over Crowley’s shoulder and sure enough. There were a few crepes witting on a plate. The angel doubted they would match the taste of those in Paris, but he appreciated the sentiment.

“I miss seeing your eyes,” Aziraphale said as he poked at one of the crepes, distrustingly.

“Why?” Crowley’s voice was quiet. Like the word had caught in his throat before he forced it into the air. Then he cleared his throat. “No one likes them, Aziraphale. They scare humans. Even demons are unsettled by them.”

Aziraphale’s thoughts stopped like he’d been hit with a freight train. “Oh, Crowley. That’s why you hide your eyes?” Aziraphale wasn’t one for anger, but he was finding it very difficult to accept that anyone would say bad things about those beautiful eyes. Those who made Crowleey feel this way would have a storm coming if the angel ever found them. He cupped Crowley’s face in his hands. “Your eyes are beautiful. They’re one of my favorite things about looking at you. I’ve always loved them.”

It took Aziraphale a second to realize his thumbs were wet. Crowley was crying. There was something to be said about making a demon cry, but even more to be said about making one cry tears of happiness. Aziraphale lifted his fingers to those dark glasses.

“May I?” 

Crowley could only nod, blinking when his bright yellow, tear filled eyes were exposed to the bright world. He buried his head into Aziraphale’s shoulder. Less because he was trying to hide his eyes and more to hide his tears. A demon crying because an angel made them happy was so unheard of he was embarrassed.

Aziraphale held onto the demon as he cried. Running his fingers through that deep red hair and massaging little circles into Crowley’s back.

“I’m fine,” Crowley said when he pulled away. He was still wiping at his eyes and there was a wet spot on Aziraphale’s night clothes.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale’s voice was soft and comforting. “I love you. Every part of you. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“Thanks, Angel,” Crowley replied, pulling Aziraphale into a hug. “I tried to change them once. Miracle them away so they wouldn’t come back.”

“What happened?” Aziraphale heard the words leave his mouth even before he could register them.

“I was blind for a bit and it took so much energy I slept longer than intended,” Crowley replied. After that he resigned himself to only using dark colored glasses to hide his eyes.

Aziraphale looked up at the demon. At his demon. “You don’t have to change for me.”

Crowley squeezed the angel once. “Thank you.” He wasn’t going to tell the angel he had already changed. It had been gradually, overtime and while it had been for Aziraphale, it had never been a bad change. As much as he hated to admit it, the angel had changed him for the better and he wasn’t all that upset about it. Being a good person wasn’t all that bad, once you got used to it.


End file.
